


Issues

by RickyxHorror



Category: Escape the Fate, Falling in Reverse
Genre: Did I Mention, I fucking love Craig Mabbitt, I love Max Green, I love Max Green ahahahahahahahaha, I really fucking love the both of them, M/M, Please Don't Kill Me, this is shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 05:50:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12928848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickyxHorror/pseuds/RickyxHorror
Summary: Ronnie gave up his closest friend, for someone who would physically pay him for popularity. Is it really worth it?





	1. Hate Me

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all like this, please lemme know. If y'all don't lemme know they say goodbye to this classic of mine.

Shit. Max is up, and not off on the right foot.. That would be because he fell out of his bed and onto his right shoulder. With a gasp and a yelp, he grabbed his shoulder and slid himself off of the bed and gasped again. His whole body sore from the events of last night and the early morning hours. He had been told after school that he was kicked from a club to be a student tutor to another failing student. Ronnie 'Ronald' Radke. He was a kid who had similar style to himself, liked the same genre of music and seemed to be a lot like him except he bullied everyone and pushed people around until he got what he wanted. Max hate this concept people often people judged himself of it and wondered why he didn't fight back. Max? Fight back? He wasn't allowed to. He slid on his jeans as sinking into his thought process of what happened last night letting himself relive it.

 

It had begun with a bang that afternoon, after Ronnie heard the school goth fag was to be tutoring him and teaching him after school. He went absolutely fucking ballistic. Ronnie slammed Max into a locker, his shoulder hitting hard against a closed locker door. He had been one to bruise fast and the pale skin spot on his shoulder faded dark and then to purple. He had a bruise on his shoulder that resembled a oval. Then Ronnie kicked Max in the leg real hard and punched him in the stomach, Max doubling over at the punch. Ronnie wore three rings on his left hand and four rings on his right. He was left hand dominant when it came to punching, thank fuck. Max hadn't made much noise except a slight whispered yelp when punched. Ronnie knew he had knocked all the wind right outta Max because his face grew whiter than snow. Speak of snow, it was the middle of December, a week before Max and Ronnie's shared birthday. Every year, Ronnie seemed to do the same thing. Throw his shit in into the snow and then him. Ronnie loved to hurt Max. Speaking of hurting Max, back to his massive events roll that happened yesterday.

 

After Ronnie blew all steam off and into Max, he went in there and got his schedule and threw it at Max. "Let's go. My house to get this paper done and get this session done so you can leave and I don't have to look at your stupid face any longer. " Max trailed behind Ronnie, walking slowly after stumbling and struggling to get up. He had to use the wall to keep him standing and when there was no wall, he stumbled and nearly ran right into the street. Then ended up a nice looking family house. Ronnie's mother, or whoever she was to Ronnie greeted the two of them at the door. Ronnie put on a precious angel like facade to the greeting and Max tried his best to straighten himself out so Ronnie's mother didn't worry or get mad at her son. Ronnie didn't deserve to be punished for the punishments that Max felt he deserved. Max put on a fake smile that was so see-through, it was clearer than water in the Bahamas.

 

She greeted with a warm introduction of herself. "Hello dear, I'm Ronnie's soon to be step mother, Jennifer. Ronnie, I see you've brought home a friend. Who's this little pal you've got here?" She asked, voice nice and calming. Max didn't have a good mom or a nice dad. Max didn't have a dad, popular claim made by his mother was that he left when he heard that his mom was pregnant. With Max. Max had only known of the guys his mother dragged in each night, other than that he knew of his male teachers but that was it. A handful each night, all dressed awfully similar.

 

Ronnie gave an annoyed sigh and shoved her out of the way. Why would he treat her like that? She seemed so nice. "Yeah, name's Max. He's a little weird fellow. We're gonna go up to my room and study some Science. He's gonna help me pass Jennifer." Ronnie seemed to reply in an angry tone, a little more formal than he talked to Max and Max was surprised by it. "Come on Max, upstairs now." Ronnie said then in a demanding tone and he went upstairs. Max had winced softly and made quite pained expressions as he walked up those stairs. The aroma and aura of the house smelt off, smelt like something unwanted. Ronnie hated Jennifer and it was clear. Ronnie didn't want this change that was okay, he was allowed to feel that way of course. But Max simply felt he didn't have to do so by acting this way towards her. That opinion of his own though was probably because Max himself never spoke back or mentioned how he thought of things in a rude manner or tone of such so that explained his actions.

 

"Sit down at that desk and stay silent. The essay on the Pyxis constellation set, do it. Get it done tonight so I can hand it in early and get extra credit. I need me those fucking bonus points;" Ronnie began with a smirk on his face. While speaking he kicked the door to his room shut behind Max, who'd had jumped and sat at the desk seat. He also had motioned to the desk and features on the desk.

 

"Pencils are all over the desk. Don't pry eyes on anything there already. Loose leaf is in the first drawer along with a sharpener and an eraser. Like one of those silly fucking big ones. Get on it little prick." Ronnie said and plopped himself down on his bed, sliding his jacket off. Max turned the chair a bit to face the desk and he pulled his knees to his chest, his heels of his feet in the Vans sitting on the seat. He held his knees to his chest and his head sat on top of his knees in the ensemble. He picked up one of the few floating around on the paper scattered desk pencils and he opened the front drawer there. He took the sharpener and a piece of loose leaf. He shakily sharpened the pencil and then paused.

 

Loose leaf in one hand and pencil in sharpener in other, he turned a bit to face Ronnie. "Uh c-can I m-make space on th-the desk?" He asked softly and he wasn't to make eye contact with Ronnie. It was a rule he'd had acknowledged since day one with Ronnie. Ronnie had been sat there watching a hasty, anxious Max. He got up and stacked some of the papers by label into a pile of one and some of the others into a different messy pile. He stacked them to the side and signaled to the newly organized free space in front of Max on the desk.

 

Ronnie gave a fake smile and let out a sigh. "There ya go ya pathetic shit. Or is that not good enough?" Ronnie asked as if he pretended to care. He seemed like he was mocking someone. Max thought on it for a second, Ronnie's stepmother. He was mocking his dad's fiance. "So..?" Ronnie enforced an answer and Max jumped.

 

Max looked up at him for a second and nodded then panicked, he accidentally just agreed to things not being good enough. "N-No, I-I meant th-that uh it's f-fine. I'm s-sorry." Max stammered and Ronnie smirked and scoffed.

 

Ronnie glared at Max, sat back down on his really nice looking bed and he pulled his phone out of his pocket and went into the music application. "Better be you ungrateful little shit." Ronnie grumbled and turned on some Cannibal Corpse. Woah. Great band!

 

Max corrected his sitting position and fixed his curled up position and faced the desk, putting the loose leaf down in the cleared space and finishing sharpening the pencil. Ronnie spectated the smaller boy, realizing just how weak and timid he was. Ronnie saw the slight expression change in Max's face when he heard Cannibal Corpse. He did that on purpose. He needed Max to be a little bit calmer so he would actually write a good paper for him. Max had written front and back of a whole sheet with clear annotations on the side margins and headnote. Ronnie couldn't see them clearly yet did wonder what they had consisted of. Max had written as a first note in the margin of: My fucking shoulder is killing me. The second side note was: Do your own fucking paper. Want something done so bad then why can't you just do it? Oh yeah that's cause you don't ever fucking listen. No one listens to me. I'm the only kid in this school with an A plus in all classes. Max continued to scribble out frustration in margins such as: 

'Fuck this man, why? Why me? Any other fucker in that class would have had more fun. Now I gotta do two papers for the same class all year.'  
'Ronnie's eyes are borderline burning a hole in the back of my head.'  
'Fuck'  
'Well this paper is actually coming out nice.'  
'On no, he shut off the cannibal corpse.'  
'New loose leaf.'  
'Oh wow, something is ticking him off. Sounds like he's fuming back there. Probably yelling at me.'  
'What time is it?'  
'Should I ask?'  
'Hope he doesn't-'

 

Max had began to write that one just as Ronnie stood up, towering over him. "What are these little side notes? They're all about Pyxis or whatever that gay shit is called.. Right?" Ronnie asked as he ripped the paper from Max's weak hands and he read them. The speed of Ronnie taking the papers from him had impacted on Max getting a paper cut in his right hand. Thank god that that it hadn't been his dominant writing hand.

 

Ronnie chuckled at some of them and kept mumbling. "Oh is that what you think?" Ronnie asked Max and grabbed his collar of his shirt, lifting him from the chair and against the wall aside of the desk. Max shook his head no fast and bit down on one of his lip piercings.

 

Ronnie chuckled and held it up in front of Max's face. "Then why the hell else would you write these if you didn't think them or believe them?" Ronnie asked and chuckled.  
Max's oxygen was beginning to feel a bit restricted. He had made a small whimper and then he answered the question. "Uh b-because I'm stupid." He whispered and Ronnie grumbled.

 

Ronnie nodded and let go of him, having Max dropped right down onto his tailbone. "Damn right you are. Get back to that fucking paper and erase all these stupid side notes." Ronnie demanded and threw the papers at Max, the two sheets scattering in different directions. Max took his time getting up and that was a mistake. Ronnie watched him and kicked him back down. "Try that again, but faster this time." Ronnie said and Max yelped softly and got up faster, biting his piercing hard. Max crawled into the chair and ten minutes later an alarm went off. Ronnie's sighed and his stepmom ran up into the room. Ronnie dismissed her chatter and she left. Ronnie had flipped the female off and cussed her out. Woah.

 

Max finished his paper and ended up erasing all side notes. "Uh R-Ronnie, i-is this g-good enough?" He asked softly. Ronnie took the papers, looking over the length and seeking all the big words. He didn't really care for the content, just to see if it looked okay. Ronnie nodded and made approving mutters as he scanned it. "It's actually a good paper. I have to go somewhere so you gotta fucking leave. Don't say a goddamn word about this and if I do find out, I'm comin' for you." Max nodded and got up, grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He winced gently and walked out of his bedroom ad scrambled down the stairs. Now he had to go home and get the same paper done for extra credit purposes and he had tons of other homework to do.

 

Max passed by Ronnie's stepmother and then realized Ronnie came fast behind him. "Goodbye Maxwell, see you tomorrow in Mrs. Morra's classroom. Astrology first period." Ronnie said with an evil smirk and Max pulled half of a fake smile right outta his ass with the rest of this friendly relationship facade.  
Ronnie's stepmom had waved goodbye and walked over to the two of them. "Hopefully I'll see you soon Max, hope you had fun and I hope Ronald treated you nicely." Ronnie scoffed, the conversation became an event between Ronnie and his stepmother.

 

"It's Ronnie, are you fucking serious? You know this already. Leave Max." Ronnie spat and Max took that and ran with it. For someone so fucking pained at the moment, he moved well. He had gotten home at 6 on the dot and he had sighed, walking past his mother's car in the driveway. Max knew this was bad news and he wished he hadn't come home. Max's mother had opened the door before Max's could take his key out to open it himself.

 

+

 

The whiskey and martini's were the scent that slid right out of the house, and right out of his mother's mouth. "Where the fuck were ya, ya little bitch?" His mother slurred and moved a bit so Max could slid himself into the house. She had a martini in hand in fact, something pink looking. interesting, who was making these for her? They looked to nice to have been prepared by her. Oh. He walked into the kitchen and spotted a male, a burly looking ma. He turned to face Max and began laughing.

 

"Alison, this is that disgusting puny son of yours? Maxwell?" He said through his laughter fit. Max sighed softly and went to walk past him to grab some water. Max had been stopped by the appearance of his mother. "Yep, Maxwell the little fag. He'll be leaving us alone soon." She reassured to the male.

 

Max grumbled something and his mother made wide eyes. "What did ya just say? Hmm? Got a lil' somethin' on ya dumb head of yours?" She said and pushed him against the wall. The second time he'd been against a wall today. "N-No, I-I didn't m-ma'am." Max said in a weak voice and he pulled himself out from her and he began to walk upstairs. His mom threw the glass at him, getting the martini all over the back of his hoodie and his bag and she shouted cuss words and straight up slander at him as he went into his room. Max took a nice hot shower that he'd had run in his bathroom, up in his room. He stripped the clothing off of his pale yet bruised, thin body and he stepped into the hot water. All open sores stinging and the bruises actually feeling warm. The rest of his untouched and uninjured skin feeling relaxed and soothed. He washed his thick black hair out and then conditioned it, washing his body gently as well. To prevent any further damage. He had feel calmer than he had felt all day and he soon realized this relaxing shower would have to come to an end. He got out and wrapped himself in the black towel hanging from the towel rack and he gently patted his body dry. He slid into a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, a long sleeved black shirt and a short sleeved thrasher shirt on top of it. He had been warm now, and just to make sure he stayed warm he threw on an unzipped Slipknot sweater. Great band. He laid down in his bed and read all the textbook pages for the week and put all of the summaries into one big page. He labeled them separately though. His mother's little friend had left and she stumbled her way upstairs and into his room.

 

Slammed the door open, she grabbed Max up from his bed. "Little fucking shit, you jus' had to come home then. You little shit." His mother yelled and began punching Max in the face. Once, twice, three strikes you're out at the old ball game. Max laid unconscious in her arms, dropped to the floor. Later that night, he woke up and crawled himself into his bed and under those covers. Passing right back out because of how much pain he was in and how badly his head hurt.

 

And that concludes the explanation on how he woke up this morning. Stressful huh?


	2. Get Up, Get Out

Max sighed, getting his bag from the corner of the room. He'd rather have dragged it behind him because his shoulder hurt and he hated wearing the bag on one shoulder. It simply threw his balance off and he didn't like that. He was weird about stuff like that. He had slowly went downstairs, hoping to simply grab a water bottle and then go into the bathroom to do a little makeup. Max did successfully get a water bottle from the fridge and he slid it into the bag. He went into the bathroom, taking the black eye-shadow and literally smearing it around his eyes. He neatened it up a tad and he closed the eye-shadow up and slid it back in it's case. He walked out of the bathroom and snuck towards the door. He slid his black vans on, realizing there was a stain from dropped margarita there. He had sighed and he opened the door, taking his house keys with him and stepping out. When he left the house he had locked the door behind him and began to walk to school. He was slow and paced, as he walked he took his earbuds out and stuck them in his ears and then into his iPod. He had found a random playlist he had and he pressed play. Metallica came on, and that was a good start. He blared it by blasting the volume. He had approached the school and went in, to throw his bag into his locker and keep his notebook and small pencil case on him. Along with his iPod and earbuds.

Max knew that he would have a very similar day to the recent day, except hopefully this time he would come home to an empty house.  
He had been in Science and per usual shit was being thrown at him, crumbled papers and such. He had then sighed and knocked them all off of his desk and when he did he felt a sudden and strong slap to the back of his head. Ronnie snickered and the teacher stayed sat at her desk, reading some sort of bullshit. Max winced and rubbed at the back of his head. It was nearing the end of the class period and Max was going to get up and be the first person to hand his essay about Pyxis in. He got up and began walking up the aisle towards the teacher's desk. Ronnie had got up right behind him and shoved him right out of the way and onto the floor, him hitting his hip bone right onto the hard floor. The teacher turned her chair to look up just when Max had managed to pull himself up and Ronnie had been holding his essay.

The teacher scoffed and she sighed. "Maxwell, why are you fooling around on the floor? That's so unlike of you. Get up this instant. You're lucky that's a first offense or else I'd send you to the office automatically." Mrs. Dowling scolded and Ronnie stifled a laugh and snickered. Max had to do something or speak back. This wasn't fair. He took in a shaky breath and lifted a hand as if to signal that he was about to talk and Ronnie gave him a cold, piercing glare.

Max changed what he was about to say to something much more civil and short. "I uh, I-I'm sorry Mrs. D-Dowling. I-It's not go-going to happen a-again." He stammered and he handed his paper in after Ronnie and he sat back down, after Ronnie did and got tripped again on his way there. Max stumbled and got himself up in time that Mrs. Dowling wouldn't have seen so he didn't get yelled at again. Ronnie snickered and arose a laugh from an unfamiliar face. Ronnie and the unfamiliar face high fived and smiled. Oh no. He's got a new friend to make fun of me with. Shit.

Ronnie and this new face got up at the same time and left the room before Max, blocking his exit from the hallway and Max lifted a hand to tap the shoulder of the new kid.   
The taller male turned to face Max. "Hey hey Ronnie, look who it is. Our favorite little shit." This newer male spoke and Ronnie turned to face Max. Come on, it was the end of the day. Didn't they just want to go home? Max had been shoved against the wall and held off of the ground by a good few inches. Max let out a soft little grunt and he tried swinging his feet. He knocked into Ronnie's knee and Ronnie became a fucking mad mess. Ronnie, with one hand on his neck and one hand not anywhere at the time had begun punching furiously at Max's face. It bust his lip fast because his lips weren't exactly the most well kept thing on his face. His lips began bleeding an about three spots and damn did it seem to pour. Ronnie seemed to either not be bothered or enjoy it because he kept punching at Max's face. The other male just seemed to watch, not really having any different facial expression other than empty. He was staring into Max's eyes, seeing the pure fear fall out and roll down his blue cheeks due to the lack of oxygen. Max went to speak to save his life and nothing came out, and Ronnie realized he had two more seconds worth of this or the fragile male he held against the wall in his hand would pass out or possibly die. Max clearly didn't have to power to sustain much more of this kind of prevention of oxygen. Ronnie spat right on his face, his nose to be exact and then he dropped Max. Max fell on his tailbone again and he gasped.

 

Ronnie watched closely and spat on him again. "You little bitch, we have to go get my homework done. I'll save you the trip, do the fucking thing at your house. I'd better have it by first period tomorrow Maxwell. Or else Craig will take turns on you. Tag team." Ronnie said and Craig and Ronnie did a handshake. Max's vision was blurry and he was really out of it. Max's old friend, Robert had been walking down the hallway. This portion of the hallway pretty much empty except for Ronnie and Craig walking away and Robert approaching. Robert was in a few of his classes and Max had previously tutored him. They had been close at one point but when Ronnie really stared getting in top of Max and getting after him constantly, everyone disappeared and left him. Robert had explained via a thrown note during class that he didn't want to be too close to him any longer to prevent him getting his ass kicked.

 

Robert had walked towards Max, a bit worried at this point. "Max, Max hey little dude, don't pass out. Hey, hey hey. It's Robert. Come on, open those eyes." Robert cooed in hopes that Max would give some sort of reply whether it be physical or verbal, anything. Max gave a soft moan and he tried to move.

 

"Yes, okay, you're alive. Max, I still remember your locker combination. I'll open it for you and pack it with your books. I got this Max. You got this. Stay up. Come on, talk to me about something you love. Music Max, tell me about music." Robert suggested and Max took a soft breath, the mark of Ronnie's hand was now leaving a bruise on his neck. Robert winced for Max seeing the purple dark bruise beginning to show on his once gentle pale neck.

 

"Metallica.." Max whispered out and Robert nodded.

 

"Come on, go ahead."

 

Max tried to sit himself up as he took a weak attempt at wiping some of the blood off of his lips. "Uh earlier.. I-I.. wanted t-to listen to.. H-HIM." Max said and he was talking, softly but talking like Robert had convinced him to do. Robert gave a weak smile to Max and filled his bag with the few books that Max would need along with his pencil case and iPod, with his headphones wrapped up around the iPod. Robert gently took the now zipped back and slung it over his shoulder. Robert didn't have his bag because he had done all his homework in study periods or free periods off so he never had to do anything when he got home. Sometimes he wouldn't finish it or just never do the homework in general but either way he knew it was better than having to bring his bag home.

 

Robert picked Max up bridal style and he carried him. "Max keep talking. Please." Robert asked, so he would know that Max was awake and conscious.

Max took another soft and small breath. "Dying Song.. One of m-my favorites." Max continued. "But I'm n-not suicidal.. I also like Di-Disarm Me.."

Max spoke and Robert nodded, glancing down to the bloodied boy ever so often. "That's a good one. What's your favorite album by HIM?" Robert asked to keep the conversation.

"Razorblade R-Romance." Max said and he tried to smile but it killed his face to do so and it put him in immense pain. That was a stupid mistake.

"Max, Don't try and smile. For the sake of your own health dear. I love your smile, but it isn’t a good idea right now." Robert reassured and Max gave a weak nod. Robert soon arrived at Max's house, seeing as to his mother not being home and automatically recognizing that as a good thing for the both of them. Robert never really liked Max's mother and the vibe she gave of and on multiple accounts he had heard Max's mother slandering him. Robert always had wondered if that was where this submissiveness sprouted from, the giving in part of Max. The weakness, where Max never fought back. Robert often said that it was due to his altercations with his mother that sprouted up when he was 10. Robert had known Max since they were six. Robert also knew Craig, Ronnie's new friend since he was six. Max should have recognized him but maybe it simply wasn't clicking for him at the moment. Robert had propped Max up on the toilet seat and he was tending to all the wounds on his lips. He had taken care of it and afterwards put chapstick over it so it would heal the ripped skin and mend it together naturally. Max hadn't done much the whole time, his neck now totally discolored and bruised. All he could think of was a reason on why he had deserved this. Max had come up with a few reasons but he didn't want to speak because his throat hurt and his lips were still just now beginning to heal and he didn't want to screw up the process. Robert carried Max to his bed and picked out his usual bed attire. Some loose sweatpants, a big t-shirt and a hoodie. Robert was gentle with Max, standing close to him if he had happened to need someone to lean on or something to grab onto if he began to feel weak. Max had held onto Robert's shoulder and he slid his jeans off and put his sweatpants on. He took his shirt off and replaced it with the one that Robert had grabbed for him. He slid it on over his head and laid back down in the bed.

"Max, sleep now okay buddy. I got you the Advil right here and water. If you need me, I'll be downstairs." Max made a soft noise in agreement and he fell right asleep. He didn't take the Advil.

Robert sat downstairs on the couch watching television and cartoons of some sort, waiting for a text message or phone call back from Craig or Ronnie. What they did was wrong, and they goddamn knew it. Craig shouldn't have watched and Ronnie never should have let it get this far.


	3. Massacre

Max had knew it, the smell of the sheets and the soft aura to the room that this was clearly not his house. He had stretched slowly and cautiously under the heavy yet warming comforter that sat upon the bed. He had to give himself only but another five seconds to determine who's bed this was exactly. No way it was Ronnie's. The new kid he had heard of and partially met the other day, Craig didn't have a radiant aura like this. Especially due to the fact that Craig had the most empty, see through look when he was stood next to Ronnie. So for this to be Craig's bed would have taken Max aback yet, something large told him it wasn't. He had finally taken in a deep inhale of the sheets and blanket around him, the comforter encasing him in the converting heat. Robert. This was Robert's classic scent no matter what it was that this man had been doing, he always smelt like Black Sea. At least, that's what Max mentally described the pleasing scent as. It smelt like strong currents of salt, like the ocean or a black sea; yet infused with stronger empowering overthrown sweetness, like the cotton candy they sell down at beaches yet Max disliked the taste of the junk food, he loved the smell. The scent of this Black Sea really brought him in and he laid face down within the bed, relaxing his anxiety thrown into him already. Yes, believe it or not that was how terrible the mental issue had taken to him. It was that severe that even in first minute after waking, he was struck with fear of anything and everything going wrong while possibly removing himself from the bed. That seems foolish to you, correct? Well now, you see Max had perfectly calculated each and every way he could ever possibly fall from a bed straight from removing his head from sleep and embarrassing himself. One of the few thousand on the list including; Awaking to step right into a crocodile's mouth and impaling my foot with its sharp teeth. Max had awkwardly begun to let those spiral every morning. That was the ten minutes he spent 'warming up' in the bed. Max had felt yet another warm mass on his back, or in reach under the blanket. Hopefully, this was Robert. Max shifted his lightweight over and to face the back of Robert. He was glad to know he had not only been correct yet now he got to hug his long yet not so lost friend Robert for warmth and reassurance. Max did as mentally planned and he snuggled right into Robert, wrapping his legs around Robert's and feeling a lot more reassured that maybe today would start off okay. Robert let out a soft chuckle as he awoke, feeling the medium sized hands holding onto his arm.

 

"Max, are you okay?" Robert asked Max who was smiling softly and cuddling into his arm. Robert and Max had awoken and done this to one another many times. When Robert did it, he simply curled all of himself around Max and cuddled him close to his chest. When Max did it, considering the height difference between the males, he guilelessly tried to find any way possible to latch onto Robert. Max giggled the same tone of a ghost as he waited for Robert to flip around and face him.

 

"Oh, I see how it is. Are you pulling a cold shoulder?" Robert laughed at the joke. It was funnier to Robert because he was always in a good morning mood. If you asked him how he felt in the middle of the day, he would either flip you off or ignore you. Max shook his head no and let his hair fall in front of his face for it was too early to care and he was to lazy to care or notice that it bothered him. See, if he were standing up right now and hugging Robert; he would do a head shake to get the hair from sitting over his eyes, nose and mouth. At the same time that he never did want it in his face, he never tucked it behind his ears. He would put a hat on or actually, tie it back. No matter how much shit he previously got for that idea, it had still always been a go to idea for when his hair's personal preferred placement was in his way. Max had seen Robert turn and he hugged Robert again, cuddling right into him. The warmth and the smell of Black Sea grew stronger. Robert was really a human walking heater and aromatic machine. He smelt good all the fucking time and he was always warm, unless it was summer or any time of the year where it was hot. Then he had been cold and that was a huge perks of Robert that Max had always found interesting and it intrigued him to find out why his body was like that. You see, in Max's case he was cold no matter what time of year it was. He also had been that cold that no matter how many coats and hoodies he had on, he would complain that he was still cold. Truly one of the seven wonders of the world and Robert had to have been one of his own as well. Max then curled up to Robert's warm and inviting arms. Hopefully, Robert wouldn't want to go to school as much as Max didn't want to go. Max didn't really ever want to go anywhere. He always stated to those who listened that he personally believed he would feel better off living in a tree house or in the rain in a tree because the rain always made him feel good. It gave a new definition to the word clean. When he danced and ran around in the rain, he felt like that truly cleansed him and helped him solve all of his problems.

 

"Max, you know we have to get up. It's only Thursday. Tomorrow is Friday. You know this buddy. We have to get to school and survive this. If anything happens, I'll swoop back in and save you." Robert had tried to reassure and Max furrowed his thick and dark brows, at what Robert just said to him. Swoop back in and save him? After the damage had already been done. Robert wasn't willing to take a punch for him. He wasn't even willing to step in while Max was being harassed or assaulted. Robert would stand sideline nurse and wait until the damage was done.

 

"Y-Yeah, fine." Max murmured, angry and disappointed. This was a transparent reminder as to why he quit being around Robert. Even if it was Robert who originally abandoned Max. I guess you could say, Max found the true reason he didn't fight for Robert's friendship. He slid out of the bed, and got up. He crossed his arms to hide them and he let his hair droop in front of his face to hide that. He walked to the mirror to stand obsessed with his body, and all his flaws. He picked at cuts, picked at acne and he grabbed and nipped at his stomach. The stomach with no fat, in which Max saw a gratitude of.

 

"What are you picking at now? What's wrong?" Robert pried, wanting to get in on the most recent rumors he heard about Max, so he could personally first handedly debunk them.

 

"Are all those fresh self harm cuts?" Robert asked, prying more. Max stayed silent though, not wanting to talk about himself. Especially not the negative, mental health issues side of himself. Not to someone who wasn't going to care, or do anything in his benefit.

 

"What about on your face? What the hell are you picking at?" Robert had continued, but Max wouldn't allow Robert to interrogate him. He went to his bag, grabbing his clothing he wore the other day and he began to get dressed. He grabbed and borrowed Robert's deodorant that he always kept in the top right drawer, in the back right corner. Max used some and he capped it, handing it to Robert. He was wearing a Cannibal Corpse hoodie, a Marilyn Manson shirt and a pair of slightly torn and ripped black tight skinny jeans. The holes were in the knees, and in that area of the knees. He had such nice, thin legs too, so his jeans looked good on him.

 

"Max, did I do something wrong?" Robert had protruded the silence of the process with another peering question. Robert had grabbed both of Max's shoulders, and with the action, demanded Max's attention and response.

 

"I-I'm going h-home. Bye." Max mumbled and he slithered out from Robert's hands and the grip they had on his shoulders and he went down the stairs, waving goodbye to Robert's mother and walking out of the house. It was a suburban white people house. One of those ones you would see on the commercials on television, for some sort of car or cleaning product.

 

Robert skipped down the stairs, shirtless and looking to chase after Max. He didn't want Max going home, because as far as Robert knew, there would be more drama and pain inflicted on Max.

 

"Robert, was that Maxwell? From sixth grade?" Robert's mother asked, preventing him from going any further.

 

"Oh, yeah. He stayed over last night. He got beat up, again." Robert had filled his mother in, and he crossed his arms as he stood there in the chilly kitchen.

 

"You two didn't.. do anything right? Cause you're into females, correct?" Robert's mother decided to ask now. If not now, when?

 

"He was dressed. No. I'm strictly into females." Robert clarified and he dragged his feet up the stairs and back into his room, to put a shirt on and go off to school. He would have went to Max's house, but he was only the clean up crew. Not the defense.

 

+

Max got home, somewhat quickly. When he entered his house, it was trashed. Another party, he figured. His mother loved to party, and he loved to pick up after her. Not. He was normally forced to do so, but that was just the way it had to be for him. He peered his head in only, because he was afraid that his mother was somewhere downstairs and might see him. He stepped one foot in the house, then another. His other foot had landed on an unnoticed empty beer can that was on the foot. He glanced his eyes around the room, trying to see if it had moved anything or possibly, anyone. He removed his foot from the can and gasped.

 

"Where were you last night? Ya little skank, what were ya doin'?" Max's mother had begun to harass and she yanked his hoodie neck, and pulled him into the house all the way. She moved him aside, slammed the door and locked it up. Then she shoved him against it, by the throat. "Ya thought you were gon' get away with it? Huh?" Max's mother continued. He shook his head no, gasping for some air. "Clean all this up. Now!" His mother shouted and she let him go, and he slid down the door and onto the wooden floor, right into a beer spill. Oh god, that's disgusting. He got himself up and out of the puddle of warm beer and he stepped out of the doorway. He scrambled to the kitchen to grab the mop, and the bucket. Beginning at the door, he mopped up all the beer in the hallway and first floor. His mother came stormed down the stairs and she placed her foot on the floor and she slipped. Max looked up, at where the thump came from and he froze, deer in the headlights.

 

"You retarded fuckin' moron, you broke my damn arm!" His mother shouted, and he clenched his eyes, praying it wasn't true. She hopped up and dashed over towards him and kicked him. Not once, not twice, not three, four, five or six times. She kicked him until he couldn't tell anymore and he had lost all count. He passed out there, in the corner by the staircase. He had tears on his cheeks and his mouth had been slightly agape as he laid there.

 

About an hour later, he woke up and gasped. Late for school, again. That was two tardies this week, and if he had one more then he would be in deep shit. He went to move, and get up and he whined out loud. His arms hurt like hell and he wanted to cry, but he couldn't. His mother, if she was home, would come for him and beat him even worse and twice as hard. He sat himself up and checked his torso, by lifting up his shirt. He had a few bruises that were clearly beginning to form, and as of his arms.. a mess. He was a huge catastrophic mess. He used the paneling of the wall behind him to get himself up. He opened the front door, clinging to the door handle so he was able to get up. This likely being the thousandth time he had to do this for himself. He brushed himself off, and managed to stand up straight. The walls were stained with the same pink liquid from his mother's cocktail, as well as his shoes. The white rubber tops of his converse had splattered pink margarita. Dragging himself out of the house was the easiest part of his task. The journey to school was a ten minute walk, but it felt like days worth of aching and crying. The sensations of tingling and pins and needles that ran through him made this experience a thousand times worse than what it may have looked like to the common public eye. Just a kid, with a black eye on his way to school. He was really a kid with a broken heart, black eye and concealed bruises that made him feel like his insides had been through a butter churner and no one to save him from this never-ending pain.


	4. Reverse The Curse

Max sighed, getting his bag from the corner of the room. He'd rather have dragged it behind him because his shoulder hurt and he hated wearing the bag on one shoulder. It simply threw his balance off and he didn't like that. He was weird about stuff like that. He had slowly went downstairs, hoping to simply grab a water bottle and then go into the bathroom to do a little makeup. Max did successfully get a water bottle from the fridge and he slid it into the bag. He went into the bathroom, taking the black eyeshadow and literally smearing it around his eyes. He neatened it up a tad and he closed the eye shadow up and slid it back in its case. He walked out of the bathroom and snuck towards the door. He slid his black vans on, realizing there was a stain from dropped margarita there. He had sighed and he opened the door, taking his house keys with him and stepping out. When he left the house he had locked the door behind him and began to walk to school. He was slow and paced, as he walked he took his earbuds out and stuck them in his ears and then into his iPod. He had found a random playlist he had and he pressed play. Metallica came on, and that was a good start. He blared it by blasting the volume. He had approached the school and went in, to throw his bag into his locker and keep his notebook and small pencil case on him. Along with his iPod and earbuds. He went through his classes fast, the usual shit happening.

 

Ronnie throwing papers and Max taking the shit he's given and not doing anything. Ronnie didn't like that so he gave Max a good slap in the back of the head. Max winced and kept his head down the rest of the period until he knew it was near over and time to hand in papers. Max got up and began to walk to the table. Ronnie came up fast behind him, and shoved him out of his way and onto the ground. Max bit his piercing hard and winced, using the desk to get up. Ronnie laughed and the teacher turned around to only see Ronnie and a Max, struggling to get up.

 

Max got up and the teacher scolded him. "Maxwell Scott, why are you fooling around on the floor? That's so terribly unlikely of yourself. What's into you?" Mrs. Dowling asked.

 

Max quickly shook his head no and took a shaky breath in but before he could speak, Ronnie glared at him. Max changed what he was to say now. "S-Sorry ma'am." Max mumbled and he stumbled and got himself back up and ran over to his seat. That time Ronnie didn't trip him, and he was incredibly grateful for it. He sat up straight, and he doodled all over his book. He was a drawing pairs of lips and eyes, and different hands in different positions. Random body parts that he enjoyed drawing on the daily, and it made good practice for if he ever actually wanted to draw someone.

 

"What are you drawing, fag?" Ronnie asked, tearing the book from his hands and staring at it. Max had drawn both of Ronnie's hand's, Robert's hands and Craig's. He also drew some random hands that weren't based off of anyone else's. He had a thing about hands. The palms had to be smooth, and normal sized and the finger shad to be a regular length that matched the size of the hand. He didn't like real short and stubby little fingers, or fingers that were super long and bony. "Whose hands are these? Are these supposed to be mine? You're drawing me now?" Ronnie spat. He was allowed to be near Max's table because he was Max's partner for the project. 

 

"Uh, y-yeah. I-I'm so-sorry I didn't ask t-t-to draw.. you.." Max stammered and he trailed off, basically giving up on trying to talk to Ronnie. He didn't want to be hit of mocked, or made fun of right there and on the spot. Ronnie took the pen from Max's hand, and he began to write. He handed the notebook back to Max, and Max looked at the comment that Ronnie scribbled. 'I actually look fucking cool. Draw more.' Max did as silently instructed, taking silent and occasional glances at Ronnie to draw him. He drew his black hair, and his pointed nose, and his dimples in his cheeks. He drew his lovely light brown eyes and his gentle blush in his cheeks when he smiled. When he finished, he handed the notebook back to Ronnie. 

 

"Woah." Was all that Ronnie could say. Max was a good artist and if Ronnie said he wasn't, then that would be to blatantly lie right through his teeth. 

 

"Y-You l-like it..?" Max whispered, and Ronnie nodded. 

 

"It's uh, it sucks." Ronnie began, as he snatched the pen out of Max's hand yet again. He took the page and he scribbled down on the side of it a different and lengthier note. 

 

'This shit is fucking amazing. Keep this up. I have a fucking reputation, plus, I still hate your guts so..' Ronnie left those few dots before ripping out the drawing and tearing it up.

 

"Wow, you fucking loooooser! This shit is awful, and we'll never be able to use it for the project. God, are you like, slow in the head or something?!" Ronnie had to do this to Max. The only way he would keep his group of friends is if he treated Max this way. That seemed to be more important to him, anyways. Keeping his friends, and keeping Max as a personal slave to do all of his work and as a punching bag for when his own parents treated him like shit. 

 

"I-I'm so-sorry." Max stammered, and he felt the eyes of the students around him stare him down and judge him as Ronnie threw the drawing out and into the trash. Max ducked his head down and laid it on the desk, in shame. He failed at making Ronnie happy, yet again. He sighed, and he decided he had enough right now. He really couldn't handle the eyes staring him into a puddle on his seat. He got up, and he stormed right towards the door. 

 

Ronnie was still standing near the trash can next to the door, so as Max was walking, he stuck his foot out again. Max fell, and he yelped. He fell right on his face, and he hurt his nose so badly that he couldn't feel it. Blood began to pour right out of his nose, and he watched it drip onto the floor. Struggling to get up, he reached out for anything he could to get up. Someone else who was walking by in the hallway shoved Max back again, and he fell right on his upper spine section of his back, crying out in pain again. When did this shit end?! He managed to get himself up, and he stumbled right up against the lockers, and from there he made his way to the bathroom. He found the stall at the end, with the working door lock and he sat on the toilet seat. He held his legs to his chest, and he cried. 

 

+

 

It really couldn't get worse from here. 

 

So he thought. At that very moment, Ronnie, Craig and Bryan had all entered the bathroom. Max unlocked the door to his stall, stood up straight and he stepped out. 

 

"I-I can't get past-pas-past you.. M-Might as we-well just l-let you have a-a-at me." Max looked defeated. He looked empty, his nose had bled all over his clothing and his hands were stained with his own blood. He had tear stains on his cheeks, but he wiped at his eyes so he had stopped crying. 

 

"Ronnie, maybe he really has had enough. I mean, I don't know about how long this has been happening between you guys, but I surely think it's been long enough." Craig spoke up. He felt awful, seeing how broken down and hurt that Max was. 

 

"No, actually, I think.. Since he seemed to have enough of me, then you're next. Get in there Craig, and fuck his face up even worse." Ronnie suggested back, and it was more of a demand, due to the way he shoved Craig a few steps forward. Craig nodded, and he figured that now would be the best and only chance of getting all of his anger and pent up feelings out. 

 

"Sure, actually. Sounds like a great idea, Ron. Thanks." Craig fist bumped Ronnie, and Ronnie smirked. Craig balled his hand up, and he socked Max right in the face. Max didn't even fight back, or brace himself for the hit. He left his hands at his sides, as his eyesight grew increasingly blurred and full of stars. Craig continued punching at his face, and then he waited until Max fell to the floor. He laid there against the wall of the bathroom, near the entrance to the bathroom. As other people stepped into the bathroom, they would kick Max, once or twice and then use the restroom as needed and leave.

 

+

 

Max passed out completely, waking up at around the same time that the last after school club ended. He was so severely late, again.The third day that he would be late getting home, and as usual his mother would fucking kill him for it. He was so vehemently abused by all of the boys in this school. The girls didn't so much step out of their way to abuse him, they would laugh at him and mock him, call him names or make sure he felt stupid and negligible. That's all that the blond haired, blue eyes, and perfect bodied females could do. The whole school seemed to be fantastic at hurting him, beating him down, and breaking him apart. So yet again, for the thousandth time today, he did his best job trying to get up. This time it was a lot harder due to the pain that spread throughout his entire abdomen. He had gotten the shit literally kicked right out of him. More like he had gotten his organs beaten and churned right out of his body, and the next time he was to use the bathroom, they would slide right out and into the toilet. Max really wished and prayed that his organs would slide out of him, and into the toilet because at least it meant that he was dead and he wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. 

 

Getting to a somewhat stable standing position, he made his way out of the bathroom, stumbling around and falling and bumping from lockers to walls, to chairs and grasping onto door handles and anything else that was stabilized and attached to the walls. His shoes made soft clunking noises on the floor, due to how much heavier they were compared to his usual converse. They dragged him around, due to how much they weighed him down. He managed to go over to his locker, leaning against the wall and holding onto the handle of the locker beside his. He yanked his locker open and he slid his bag out. He took his work, and he took his coloring utensils out and stuffed them in his bag. He was supposed to go to Ronnie's today, anyways, to help him with his homework, or any classwork he wasn't understanding. That was the only reason he got up this afternoon, from his pandemonium filled corner of the men's bathroom. He zipped his bag up halfway, and began on his way out of the building. He had to get to Ronnie's house before it was five, and right now, that wasn't looking too well for him. He stepped out of the school building and he flipped his hood up to block out the bright sun from bothering his ability to see. 

 

+

 

Max saw the driveway as he approached the Radke's house. He noticed a few things. The mailbox was wide open, and there was mail sitting right inside it. The driveway had no cars parked in it, and that must have been a bad thing. Max had a hand on his stomach, and when Ronnie opened the door, Max parted his lips to speak but instead, he dropped right down on the floor. His upper and extremely sickly pale looking top half was stuck in the doorway, and lower half was laying across the steps of Ronnie's porch.

 

"Shit. Oh, fuck, shit. Is this shit head dead?" Ronnie mumbled, bending down and pressing his fingers to Max's neck, tilting his head a little. "Oh, fuck, Max," Ronnie felt a soft pulse, which he was grateful for. Yet Max didn't seem like he was holding onto that pulse, so Ronnie picked him up and placed him on the couch in the living room.

 

"Max, wake up. If this is a prank, I-I'll actually kill you." Ronnie said as warning, and Max's eyelids continued to flicker, getting slower. His eyes were starting to close. "No, Max, shit, stay awake." Ronnie propped Max up, so he was sitting up straight. He ran into his kitchen, and he grabbed a frozen water bottle and a chilled water bottle for him.

 

"Hey, can you, Max, open your eyes, Ma-Max, open your eyes." Ronnie demanded, and he watched as Max struggled with the task, getting around to it though.

 

"Good, good boy okay, okay, open your fuckin' mouth." Ronnie tilted Max's head back a bit. His mouth dropped open, and Ronnie opened the chilled water bottle up, and he closed Max's pierced lips around the spout of the bottle. He poured some in his mouth, only a little. He made sure that Max drank it, and he stared at his throat for a second to assure that it was making its way down.

 

"Max, I'm so sorry, I-I never thought that it would get like this and I-I never wanted it to b-be like this, it's all m-my fault all on me and I-" Ronnie paused, and he exhaled. He then slid the chilled water bottle from his mouth and capped it.

 

"Keep your eyes open for me, Max. I need you to stay awake. If you stay awake, you can beat me up later. That-That'll be fun, right Max?" Ronnie was trying to interact and keep Max's head going, to keep him up.

 

"Now I have to see where else you got fucked up, hold on, okay, Max. When I touch something and it hurts, grab me or-or-or squeeze me or pinch me and uh, hurt me something, you know to let me know I found an injury." Ronnie explained his mental process on what he was doing. He moved Max into a bit more of a reclined position on the couch, and he slid his sweater off, and then his shirt. He saw a large, black hole like, dark dark purple bruise covering his abdomen. Instead of a six pack, Max had a purple pack of bruises and foot marks.

 

"Hey, Max, I know this fucking hurts a lot and what I'm about to do will hurt a lot more, but it will help. So grab me when it hurts." Ronnie instructed, and when Ronnie placed a frozen water bottle in the dead center of his bruise, and the most commonly aimed for spot of his stomach.. Max grabbed tightly on Ronnie's shoulder.

 

"Good, okay, you're awake, you felt that, good Max, good boy okay, good okay, uh, stay awake, please stay awake I will be right back," Ronnie dashed across the room, back to the kitchen where he grabbed three smaller and lighter ice packs, with that squishy blue reusable gooey looking paste inside of it. He removed the water bottle, and Max let out a held in breath of air. "I'm going to put lighter little ice packs. It may hurt a lot less. I hope it doesn't hurt too bad. When and if you feel it, grab onto me or yell, anything." Ronnie had reminded Max of what he needed from him at the moment. He placed one of the three ice packs on the middle of the bruise, and Max gave a little squeeze. The same happened with the second, and third. It seemed that at first, it was just the startling sensation of the cold to his skin without a countdown.

 

"Thank you so much, Max. You're doing so good, you're awake, you drank for me, squeezed my arm. Do you think I can get a little more water in you? I need you alive and awake, and hydrated." Ronnie grabbed the cold water bottle and he opened it back up, opening Max's mouth again. He placed the water bottle opening right in between his lips, closed his mouth around then and tilted the whole bottle back a bit to dispense some into his mouth. Max swallowed the water, taking small pauses between each amount he managed.

 

"Thank you so fucking much, Max. Do you think you can maybe tell me what the fuck happened after I left?" Ronnie protruded, not really caring whether or not Max wanted to answer. He basically demanded an answer from him, and he knew that Max would give it to him eventually.

 

"L-Left me.. oth-ers ki-icked me. Bl-Blacked out." Max explained as simply as he could, and he reached a hand up to his face. He gently tapped his right eye that was swollen shut, and winced. He moved his mouth too much when he winced, and it split down the middle again. Ronnie watched him carefully, and when the blood drizzled he widened his eyes.

 

"Fuck, hold on." Ronnie went into the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel and folded it up, holding it to his bottom lip. "Just, be careful please. I'm sorry. I never meant for things to get that out of hand, and all I wanted was to prove a point to some stupid seniors." Ronnie admitted, and he covered his with his hand, knowing he slipped up.

 

"Wh-Who? Who wa-was more impor-portant th-than us? Wh-Who matte-mattered more than our b-birthday boys pact?" Max sat up slightly, and his eyes read of immense pain and betrayal. He had tears brimming, and his bruised eye had already slid a tear out.

 

"Bryan and.. TJ." Ronnie blurted and Max sat up all the way.

 

"I-I really n-never had anyone in my life, n-no one wants me around and y-you know what? Everyone j-just hurts me!" Max yelled. He was crying, so he was slurring just the slightest, but he was hurt. He never had Ronnie as a friend, Robert was just a gossip guy who needed to know what was the truth and what wasn't, Craig clearly wanted to see him fall and TJ stabbed in the back so many times that he no longer had a fucking spine. Max was done, in fact beyond done. "Fuck it, f-fuck this! Give me your st-stupid homework, an-and I'll get it ba-back to you in the m-morning. I-I am done, I-I hate you so fu-fucking much Ronnie. You m-made me thin-think I was good, or worth something on-only to tear me down and break me. Y-You fucking suck!" Max rambled, and he snatched the necklace Ronnie gave him right off his neck, and threw it on the floor. "That, means n-nothing... to me anymore." He pointed to the chain necklace, with an upside down cross on it.

 

"No, Max, come on you- you won't even listen to my side of the story!" Ronnie yelled back, and he stood up. Max stood up as well, regretting doing so.

 

"Wh-What... is there to hear?" Max felt lightheaded, and dizzy. He held a hand to his forehead and he fell back down onto the couch.

 

"TJ pays me. Every punch I deliver. Bryan tells TJ everything I do." Ronnie explained, to put things simply.

 

"No fucking w-way." Max murmured under his breath.

 

"Yes fucking way, Max. I never meant to drag in the entire school, and I never planned for you to get so catastrophically abused." Ronnie bounced his statement right back, and he sighed.

 

"Undo it. Un-Undo it, now or-or as soon a-as you can. I-I already get enough of it f-from my m-mother." Max grumbled, getting up.

 

"I can't, Max. I'll lose all of my friends." Ronnie deflected.

 

"I-I used to b-be your only f-friend, and y-you threw m-me away for TJ! Th-The same asshole who threw and sh-shoved sand in your mouth!" Max saw what happened, and he decided it was time to go to the kitchen himself. "F-Fuck," Max opened up the trashcan in the sink, and puked. He puked up the small amount of dried apple slices he managed to have found and eaten.

 

"Shit, man." Ronnie grabbed the cold water bottle and went over to hold Max's hair back, as he choked and coughed, throwing up the small contents in his stomach.

 

"I-I knew I-I was never good en-enough for anyone wy-when you left me fo-for T-TJ." Max hoarsely murmured, to Ronnie. Ronnie shushed him, and he opened the water bottle for him. Max took it, holding onto the counter near the bin tightly. He wanted to drop dead, and leave it all behind.

 

"You're much better than him." Ronnie persisted, fighting Max's self deprecating comments regarding the situation that Ronnie shoved him into.

 

"Prove i-it. Undo the.. agh, th-the uh mess y-you m-made." Max wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and he made his way over to the sink. He washed his hand off, and he dried them using some paper towels. He looked super pale and sick, and he wanted to lay down and bap. He wanted to just listen to some Cannibal Corpse and sleep, comfortably. 

 

In that same moment, the front door to Ronnie's house was opened by someone else who resided here. The two were going to be caught in one of the weirdest situations they've ever experienced.


	5. The Final Blow

It was Ronnie's father, the man that was dating Jessica. Correction, the man that planned to wed Jessica, and make Ronnie eternally miserable. Max looked up, and he had pure fear in his eyes. Ronnie looked approximately three percent more fearful than Max, due to the fact that he was his own father. 

 

"Hey boys, what happened here? Is that _the _Max Green, from back when I used to bring you down to the sand pit?" His father had begun interrogating, already. "What happened to you Max? Ronnie, did you do this to Max?"__

__

__Ronnie stuck his hands up in the air, and placed them behind his head. "No, it wasn't me. I found Max like this, and I decided to take him back to the house and help him clean up. I really can't believe someone would hurt him like this. He got a little sick just now, so I held his hair back as he.. threw up." Ronnie expressed a load of fake emotion and sympathy for Max, and his situation that had been brought down on him by Ronnie himself. Remember, if it wasn't for Ronnie throwing Craig at him, then he wouldn't have ended up on the bathroom floor. If it weren't for his teacher begging him to tutor Ronnie, then he wouldn't be here at his house with the smell of throw up on his breath and the thoughts of running away in his head. The worst part of this whole confrontation was that Ronnie not only straight out lied to his father, but he did it so well that his father believed him._ _

__

__"I'm sorry to hear that, boys. Max, would you mind telling me what happened to you?" Ronnie's father continued to delve into these scenes._ _

__

__"He has an awful stutter from all that he has been through today, and not only that, but he is struggling to get air in." Ronnie piped up, preventing Max from wanting to talk. Max knew it would be more respectful to answer to Ronnie's father, so he waited for a prompt._ _

__

__"Ronnie, I'm not asking for a speech. Just a few words from the kid, so I know he doesn't need to go to the damn hospital." His father sighed._ _

__Max glanced up, eyes wide again. "G-Got b-b-eat up." Max had stammered, ashamed of his inability to speak clearly. He would be awful if he were to give a speech. He turned his glare right back down the the floor, more specifically over at Ronnie's boots._ _

__

__"I'm sorry to hear that, Max. Who did it?" His father asked, and Ronnie clenched a fist._ _

__

__"Uh, k-kid named uh, T-TJ." Max piped up, and he bit a chunk of skin off from the inside of his mouth._ _

__

__"Oh, wow. TJ went down a dark path. Ronnie, Max, I wish you two the best. I'll be in my office, because the bills don't pay themselves." Ronnie's father left on a less negative note, leaving a dad joke with both of them. He walked out of the doorway, and he went into a office on the left, closing and locking the door behind himself._ _

__

__"I-I'm s-sorry, R-Ronnie." Max whispered, feeling bad for making TJ look like the bad guy. It wasn't a lie. This was all TJ's fault. Ronnie wanted to be a popular, and TJ was literally paying him in popularity for the punches he threw and placed._ _

__

__"No no, thank you, actually god fucking bless you for saving and covering my ass." Ronnie put his hands together like he was praying, and he bowed down slightly directed towards Max._ _

__

__"I-It.. is all uh, TJ's f-fault." Max murmured, and he relaxed his eyes. It hurt to be so fucking paranoid and scared all the time. His eyes were dry all the time, either from crying all the liquid in him right out or from keeping his eyes so dramatically open._ _

__

__"Yeah. I uh, decided. As you and I were talking to my father, I kept rerunning this shit in my head. I'm calling it quits." Ronnie explained, holding his hand out to Max._ _

__

__"Wait, you.. y-you're going to end th-this? Tell TJ o-off?" Max asked, wide eyed in shock that Ronnie was actually going to do the right thing and save his life._ _

__

__"Yeah man. That's what I _just _said. Isn't it?" Ronnie checked, and he shook his hand in the air a little more to emphasize that he wanted to do his handshake with Max.___ _

____ _ _

____"Th-Thank you so m-much, oh my S-Satan, I.. Th-Thank you." Max whispered out, and he looked up at Ronnie and hugged him, instead of doing a handshake._ _ _ _

____"It was this bad? This bad, Max? I put you through that much?" Ronnie asked, wanting to tear up and cry. He put Max through so much pain that he was crying and begging to be freed._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____"Y-Yeah, man, y-you have n-no idea," Max informed, and he shook his head. His lovely black thick and silky hair swooped with his every single motion. "F-Fuck, I.. g-got tears on your I-Iron M-Maiden shirt. I-I-I'm sorry." Max sighed when he saw the tear stains on Ronnie's shirt. It was a good shirt, and he felt bad._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____"No, it's fine. I have three other Iron Maiden shirts. We're good. It's okay. For once, Max, I'm going to make things okay. I promise, and I won't let it be bad for you in school anymore. It will take a while, and it really may be just the two of us against the school but it's us birthday boys. The twins. The brother's from different mothers, you remember? Max the Ripper, my best friend, my brother." Ronnie reassured, and he went into this little speech about how much Max meant to him, bringing up things of the past._ _ _ _

____"I.. I r-remember. I-I didn't thi-think you would." Max had smiled a bit, and he licked his lips. They dried up so fast, when he would cry._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____"I did. My brother, my twin, Max Green." Ronnie repeated, really making sure Max knew he was serious. "Here, I think you might need this again." Ronnie stepped away from Max for a moment, bending over slightly and retrieving the upside down cross necklace. He made his way right back over to Max, and handed him the necklace._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____"I-I will n-need th-this, ah, th-thanks." Max slid the necklace right back on, and he patted it against his chest twice._ _ _ _

____"That's where that belongs." Ronnie reached into his sweater, and slid out his matching necklace. He had never taken it off. "Hey, woah, where did you get that necklace from, Max? That thing is so cool! Oh, look dude. I have the same one. Woah, what the fuck man? We both have sick taste, oh that's so cool Max!" Ronnie joked, and Max began giggling and laughing._ _ _ _

____"Yeah, m-man! Super cool!" Max paused to get his giggles out, and he inhaled shallowly. "Uh, s-so about th-the paper. I-I have your essay." Max took a few steps over to his bag, and he took out a few pieces of paper. "Th-The one for biology." Max handed it to Ronnie. Ronnie tore the whole thing up, and tossed each and every shred into the trash. Max stood there, wide eyed yet again. Did he really suck that bad? Was nothing actually okay?_ _ _ _

____"Thank you but.. I have to start treating you like Mad Max the Ripper again, you know, and not like.. my fucking slave or something like that. As long as you have and wrote yours, then we're good. You can help me with mine, but I don't want to let you just write it. I would feel bad." Ronnie explained why he took the actions he did, and Max sighed out heavily._ _ _ _

____"I-I have mine. I-I can uh, h-help with yours." Max agreed, and he zippered his bookbag right back up._ _ _ _

____"Cool, let's go up to my room then. Get this shit started, man. Get this shit _finished _man." Ronnie really just wanted to get the school work out of the way so that he could draw, or listen to music and just space out.___ _ _ _

______"Yeah, uh, ex-exactly." Max murmured, walking up the stairs slowly behind Ronnie._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I have a trash can and a bathroom in my room, so if you feel like throwing up again.. you can just get up and go. I really would like to remind you, that I am truly so super fucking sorry dude." Ronnie repeated, reiterating himself slightly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I-It’s al-alright.” Max replied, and he knew deep down that it really wasn’t alright._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Max, I mean it. I’m really fucking sorry.” Ronnie decided he was going to pester Max with this until he was told to knock it off. “I’m so sorry,” Ronnie repeated._ _ _ _ _ _

______“R-Ronnie, shut th-the fuck up, b-be-before I-I…” Max went off, because he knew he could never bring himself to hurting his practical brother._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You what? You whaaaaaat, Max?” Ronnie giggled, poking at one of Max’s sides. He yelped, and held his side._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fuck,” He choked out, and he held his side. He was bruised all over his stomach, due to being punched and beaten all over the stomach by everyone who had entered the bathroom._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh shit, Max, I, I’m so sorry little dude.” Ronnie whispered, and he smacked his forehead._ _ _ _ _ _

______“N-No uh, sokay,” Max breathed, and Ronnie picked him up bridal style and placed him down on his bed._ _ _ _ _ _

______“There. Lay there. You won’t be hurt anymore." Ronnie reassured, and he ran his fingers through Max's hair, and he sighed. "I never meant to hurt you, Max. I only wanted to get closer to you, and I fucked it up. I meant to get closer, not push you further. I'm really sorry, Maxi." Ronnie whispered, and he continued to brush out Max's hair with his fingers._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Ronnie, wh-why are y-you be-being so nice t-t-to me n-now?" Max asked, and he furrowed his brows in the slightest._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yeah, I'm sick and tired of us having this tension, and you having this fear towards me. I miss when you would just come to my house to sit and talk about something that got you super happy. When we would just simply hum songs until one of us caught on, or when we would have screaming contests. You know? I missed _you _Max." Ronnie explained, and he laid in the bed, right next to Max.___ _ _ _ _ _

________"Th-Thanks, uh, th-thanks a l-lot Ronnie. By th-the way uh, you uh, d-doing th-that to my hair uh, makes m-me feel good." Max gave a weak smile, and he looked up at Ronnie. Ronnie smiled back down at him, and he continued to pet his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I'm glad. I missed having you as my little buddy. You've always been so loyal and good to me, no matter what I have put you through." Ronnie continued praising Max seeing that he reacted positively._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I-I missed having you a-as a-a-a friend." Max whispered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I missed you, Max. I missed you so much. I just wanted you, I wanted this, I needed this.” Ronnie kept repeating in efforts to really convince Max that he wanted him back. 

 

“H-How do I-I kn-know you’re not just trying t-t-o lure me in t-t-to break me down all over again?” Max asked, brinking a bit of a panicked spiral. 

 

“Cause. You’re Max the Ripper. Max Green, my friend from the sandbox that is halfway between my house and yours.” Ronnie repeated a prior statement he made, and it seemed like a robot that was broke or stuck on repeat. 

 

“Can I-I just uh, n-nap?” Max asked, and Ronnie nodded. Shortly after Max was completely out, Ronnie got up and he went right back over to his desk. Ronnie slid out a new sheet of loose leaf from the heat pile he made. He had organized his desk, all for Max. The last time Max was here and was working at his desk, it was a cluttered mess. So Ronnie did the simple task for Max, so that Max would feel more at home and more organized when he would write for him. He took a pencil from the cup he had on his desk that held them, and he began writing his paper. This is what he would do, to pass the time as Max slept.


End file.
